Step Closer to the Edge
1: Jump
Disclaimer – Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takashi.
Seto Kaiba sat at a table, poking at his filet mignon unappetizingly with a fork. Here he was, at some nameless employee's birthday party, on a rooftop restaurant, when he didn't want to be here. Being a CEO had its drawbacks.
In a building next to the party, a woman checked into a room. It was on the same level as that rooftop party, the window giving a clear view of it. She smiled, then dimmed the lights. She then cut a hole in the window, poking the long barrel of a rifle through it.
Meanwhile, Seto started moving his food around so it would look like he ate it. He'd done this trick many times when he was young, and felt a sort of nostalgia doing it now. He almost never had time to himself now. Sure, a few years ago, he had had a few quiet moments to himself during school, but now that he was a full time worker, those times seemed as long ago as his early childhood. Seto then thought of his little brother, Mokuba, now a willowy sixteen-year-old, every bit as smart as Seto had been, and perhaps knew how to enjoy himself a little bit more. He thought of how Mokuba would probably follow in his own footsteps one day, but that seemed unlikely, as how close he and his brother were in age.
The woman bit her lip, waiting for the right moment. She was starting to have second thoughts about this. This man had never done anything to her, and here she was about to destroy his life, and possibly the lives of everyone around him. But there was no choice. She pressed the trigger.
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Next Day
Mokuba flopped on his large bed, flinging his backpack off into a corner of his room. He hadn't seen his brother ever since he'd left to go to that party. That morning, Mokuba had simply assumed that Seto had gotten home while he was still asleep and left early for work, but he hadn't gotten a call from him all day. This wasn't like him.
Mokuba walked over to his backpack and pulled out a binder. Same homework as usual: history essay due next week, a pre-calculus worksheet, and read two chapters of a book so classic, he doubted anybody read it anymore. He'd sat down at his desk and started to outline his essay when a sound from his laptop caught his attention. He turned around in his swivel chair to the monitor, and pressed a key. A new e-mail.
"Mokuba Kaiba: please come to Kaiba Corp office immediately. URGENT."
He sighed, running a finger through his black hair, muttering, "They always choose the most inconvenient times." He smoothed out his shirt and put on a jacket, trying to make himself look more presentable.
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Stepping into the office, the lanky teenager walked stiffly to where his brother's desk was. Looking around the room, he saw Roland, some other bodyguards, a couple of people who looked like attorneys, but no Seto. The first thing that came out of his mouth was, "Where's my brother?"
Roland coughed. "Well," he began, "That's what we wanted to see you about. Have a seat," he motioned with a hand.
Mokuba nodded and sat down. "Well?" he prompted after a long silence.
"We thought to bring to the news to you in the gentlest possible way," said one of the attorneys.
"So, we thought that the best way was to receive it personally," said the other, pulling at his cuffs in a nervous manner.
Mokuba hated it when people played this game, trying to avoid saying something nasty. He wished that they would just get to the point and stop wasting time. "What was so important that you couldn't just call me or text me or something?" he demanded.
Another person in the room, a police officer, finally decided to say, "Seto Kaiba was found dead at 3 am this morning."
It seemed like the entire world was crashing around Mokuba's ears. That couldn't be true! "What!" he exclaimed, suddenly standing up in his chair. "Where? How?"
"Please calm down, sir," said Roland, gently pushing his charge back down.
"What were the details?" Mokuba asked urgently.
"He was found dead," said the officer, a tone in his voice that distinctly said that he would've wanted anything else but to report this, "on the rooftop café at the Genjutsu Hotel at 3 am by the security guards. Apparently, he was shot in the back."
"How could this happen? How long before the body was found?" Mokuba asked, trying to keep a degree of rationale and sanity in his voice.
"We don't know," the officer said, his voice now slightly quicker as if he wanted to get this over with, "but apparently, the guests were too drunk to notice and didn't realize until everybody left."
Mokuba sat in his chair, speechless and unable to move. Even though he'd had a few several good moments to comprehend this sudden information, it still felt like a sudden slap to his face.
"Sir?" asked Roland. "Are you okay?"
But he got no answer as Mokuba slumped off the chair into unconsciousness.
